


Hide in Ignorance

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Gen, Lip is slightly an asshole, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Returning Home, Reunions, mentions of abduction, not quite a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It'd been five years since Ian Gallagher had left for the Army. He finally returns a changed man from all that he went through and has to find his new place in this world on the outside and his family.<br/>Dystopian AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide in Ignorance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Shameless Big Bang 2015. 
> 
> Please make sure to check out [southern-winterking's](http://southern-winterking.tumblr.com/) [fanmix](http://southern-winterking.tumblr.com/post/125867310313/the-fic-listen-on-8tracks-01-voice-of-our-age) for this fic. It's so good! (That last song especially!)

It had been five years since Ian Gallagher had last walked these streets. Five incredibly long, difficult, excruciating years.

As he glanced around he noticed that the years hadn’t been kind to his old neighborhood either.

Though really, what part of the world remained untouched?

The Order had started innocently enough:  a brand new presidential candidate that ran on a new party ticket. They seemed to have enough backing, support, and ideals to be a worthy candidate. But then, once they were sworn in, everything changed.

Suddenly the senate and congress was full of these new ticket members and very quickly the president was disposed of. They were not allowed to speak of them anymore. The Order didn’t want anyone to get any ideas about what happened.

Officially, the president had fallen ill very quickly—a pneumonia. On his deathbed, they had written the orders to give presidential power over to the senate and the congress since the vice president had quit after the swearing in ceremony. It had been a series of strange occurrences but most people were willing to shrug off—after all William Henry Harrison was only president for a month before falling ill and dying.

When the senate and congress had gained full power, they quickly disbanded the presidency all together. They claimed that following a European Union proto-type would be more beneficial for a democracy. It seemed to make sense and for a while things were fine.

Actually they were better than fine. Employment was up and poverty was down—The Order created a bunch of jobs because it’s important to earn your keep and provide for yourself and your family. The minimum wage was bumped up because it’s important to make sure the citizens of this great country were making enough to live off of.

Healthcare was completely reformed and made to follow the Canadian example—at least that’s what they told everyone. It was free and only special consultations required payment.

Everyone was so happy and content that no one started noticing the changes.

They were small at first:  extra patrols by the police and fire brigades (for your safety and the safety of our children), stricter punishments for breaking the laws (how will people learn if there are not consequences for their actions), and weekly mandatory check-ins for households (to help better protect those who may be suffering and being abused).

Not to mention the overabundance of crap they pushed through the television and radio programs.

Ian might have been one of the few people who didn’t get sucked in to all that reality TV nonsense, but it was everywhere. There were constantly new shows being added—to every channel that was still around. Quite a few channels had been dropped due to inappropriate ratings (because parents can’t protect against false information) or unable to negotiate with the Cable provider (satellite is too dangerous to have around. There were over 700,000 cases of death or serious injuries due to satellite dishes falling from roofs).

Despite all that, people were happy. They enjoyed going to work every day to provide for their families (that’s how you remain a productive member of society) and they loved being able to come home and enjoy a bit of family time watching their favorite new programs.

No one seemed to notice or care how things had changed.

Sure there were some and they talked outright about it, but that was before the disappearances.

There was a group of prisoners who’d escaped (Maybe it’s a good thing this happened. Now we know that we need to increase our security for our state prisons) and were taking people at random. It was suggested that they were either a fanatical religious group that required human sacrifices for their deities or cannibals living on the run.

They traveled all over the country, taking people and they were never heard from again.

It’s really just a tragic story. Luckily it has a happy ending: the local police force was able to find and apprehend the suspects!

Since then, no one has noticed anyone missing. Sometimes people get this weird sense that there was a person who was meant to be around, but there’s never any evidence that such a person existed. (That’s just what happens when you spend so much time with your family. You start to miss them whenever they’re not around.) No one wanted to bother The Order with something so trivial anyway, especially since it’s normally their own mistake or invention.

The order had so much to deal with in the past few years—they had been dealing with a security crisis. Apparently another country had decided to threaten the safety of the American people. The Order, being as concerned for its citizens as it was, issued a plea for any able-bodied member of the country to enlist into the armed forces. They were very confident that they weren’t going to be needed because they would sort this out themselves, but they would like to be safe.

That’s when Ian left. It wasn’t exactly _why_ Ian left, but that’s about when he left.

After that crisis was solved, people started wondering again. More than that, they started speaking out, asking questions. Who was this country that threatened us? How did they threaten us? Where are the people who signed up for the military?

Every family of a recently enlisted person received a monthly letter, updating them of what they are doing. After that, the letters became more sporadic until eventually the military person told their family that they were too busy to do these letters every month. They ensured their family that they were happy helping the Great Country of America and would gladly give their time and efforts to making sure others stayed safe.

There were some families who received a different, more official sounding letter that coldly stated the death of their loved one (But their memory and dedication shall live on).

Either way, the questions continued. And so did the disappearances.

Honestly, Ian wasn’t entirely sure what was on this side of the fence anymore. It’d been too long since he’d interacted with actual people, since he’d been involved somehow. He wasn’t sure where anyone or anything stood anymore.

He knew the disappearances continued. Any whisper of rebellion or questioning the Order and they erased you from the earth. Every mention or record of your goes up in smoke. Your family left in shambles, having to convince themselves that you were never real in the first place. Unless they simply believed the lie.

And that’s what it’s really all about, isn’t it? Believing the lie.

The Order needs the people to believe all their lies of safety and progress and power to remain in control. The People need to the believe the lie in order to remain among the living. The Order needs to believe the lie about how they’re doing this to protect the country.

It’s a vicious cycle of lie after lie with no end in sight.

Ian took in the houses as he walked down the street towards his old house. He knew his family wouldn’t have left it, regardless of how things had fallen apart.

The Order stopped caring so much about beautifying the cities and people because now they had examples. They could point at the run down neighborhoods and poor people, put their hands on their hips and shake their heads as they’d say, “This is why you need to be a productive member of society. These things simply do not happen to people who actively participate.”

Ian wondered what his family was going to say. It had been five years since he’d last seen them. He wondered what they were doing now.

Five years was a long time.

Ian took another glance around before steeling himself and walking up to the back door. He paused outside the door, his hand hesitating just over the handle.

His family was just inside. He was going to finally see them after so long. But he couldn’t help but think about the questions they would undoubtedly have for him. Where was he? Why did he leave? What was it like? Why is he back now?

Those were all questions that Ian didn’t have answers to. Well, he _had_ answers but no answers he was going to share with them.

It had been a long journey and he’d had time to figure out his story. And it wasn’t like anyone was going to be better than him at lying under pressure. He’d been trained by the best after all.

Ian swallowed and worried he was about to be sick all over the steps. Suddenly he was worried about them not remembering him at all. What if he’d been erased and now he’s just showing up? He’s going to screw with the entire system.

But he had to go home, he had to _be_ home. He needed to remember who he was because it was all jumbled.

It felt like all the pieces were there and he understood them and could clearly see the way the puzzle was supposed to turn out, but for some reason his version wasn’t matching up and he had all these extra pieces he wasn’t sure what to do with. Could he even work them into this already started puzzle?

He took a deep breath and turned the handle. For better or worse, he was finally home.

* * *

 No one noticed him at first.

Ian stood quietly to the side of the door, watching his family move around. They had clearly just eaten dinner and were cleaning up. He wondered what they had eaten. He wondered what they’d been up to.

He hoped they were all still alive.

Carl was the first person to notice him. He dropped the plate he was carrying to the sink.

“Carl! I told you to be careful!” Fiona scolded, shooing them all away from the mess on the floor. She glanced up and saw Carl was standing completely still as he stared straight ahead.

Ian watched her turn her head, apprehension and worry on her face before completely shock and disbelief took over.

“Ian?” she breathed, not moving from her position on the floor.

“Hey, Fiona,” Ian responded quietly.

“You—You can’t be here. This can’t be happening!” She said, standing up and pacing away from him.

Carl still hadn’t moved.

“I’m here, Fi. Alive.” Ian reached down to hug Liam who’d scurried over to him. He’d gotten bigger—he was close to Carl’s age when Ian had left.

“No!” Fiona argued. “You’re dead. They told us that you’d _died!_ ”

Ian sighed, realizing that they had intended to kill him after all. There would probably be a letter coming within the next few days with an apology and a correction.

“They were mistaken,” Ian said carefully.

“Ian?” Carl asked, carefully walking closer. He was shorter than Ian but reminded him of himself from five years ago.

“Yeah, Carl. It’s me,” Ian assured him.

Carl nearly launched himself at Ian. Everyone always talked about how close Lip and Ian were, but Carl and him were not that much further behind. They were there for each other in ways that Lip wasn’t for him.

Ian was the one who trained Carl how to use weapons so he wouldn’t hurt himself and more importantly, when it was appropriate to use them so he didn’t get in trouble or hurt anyone else. Carl was the person who’d listened to him when he’d talked about being gay and having relationships. Of course, it was more logistics talks back then, but they were somehow more comforting because Carl wasn’t judging him or his chosen partners—not like Lip had.

Ian squeezed Carl close.

“I missed you,” Carl said quietly, only so Ian could hear, as he let him go.

“I missed you too,” Ian said, ruffling his short hair.

“DEBBIE! LIP!” Fiona shouted up the stairs.

“What, Fiona? I’ve got to get started on my college applications,” Debbie said. She was clearly irritated that Fiona had interrupted her.

Fiona just pointed at Ian and Debbie followed her fingers.

“Ian!” She ran to him and hugged him. “Oh my god!  I thought you were dead! I can’t believe it! Where have you been? What happened to you?”

Ian hugged her back and tried not to cringe at her questions. The pestering had already started.

He forced out a laugh. “Nope, not dead.”

“You’re back, right? For good?” Debbie asked him, finally letting him go.

“I think so,” Ian said. “Depends on a few things.”

“Like what?” Fiona asked.

Luckily he was saved from answering when Lip walked down the stairs. He was the only one who instantly noticed Ian. Lip paused on the last stair, taking him in.

“Hey, Lip. Long time no see,” Ian said with a small smirk.

Lip frowned and walked over to him and punched him in the shoulder. “You fucking asshole!”

“Lip!” Fiona scolded from the side.

“Five fucking years you’ve been gone and you say ‘Long time no see?’ The hell is wrong with you?” Lip asked.

Ian laughed as he stood up. “I guess it wasn’t the best opener, huh?”

“Damn right it wasn’t good,” Lip said. “Fuck.”

Lip hugged him and Ian pretended not to notice his slightly trembling form. “Sorry. Next time I’ll say something less sarcastic.”

“Fuck you,” Lip said as he pushed him away. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

Ian smiled again and held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. No next time.”

The whole family stood around, awkwardly staring at Ian. Everyone was unsure what to say or do now that the greetings were over.

Ian couldn’t blame them. He’d been gone for five years and people change. He wasn’t even sure who they were anymore. Not to mention they had all thought he was dead.

“Jesus, sorry, Ian,” Fiona said suddenly startling back to life. “You must be starving. You want something to eat?”

Ian nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Fi.”

“So what happened to you?” Lip asked as Carl said, “What was it like being in the army?”

Ian smiled. “The army was intense, we’ll just put it that way. I’m back now and just want to get back to society.”

“Some fucking society,” Lip said as he pulled a chair out to sit in.

Ian was thankful for the distraction. “What do you mean?”

“You seriously don’t know what’s happening out there?” Lip asked him.

Ian frowned. This wasn’t a good conversation to have at all. “What’s happening?”

“Fucking assholes running this country think they can just do whatever the fuck they want, to whoever the fuck they want because they’re in control,” Lip complained. “And you’re fucked if you want something more than they’ve planned out or ask any questions. It’s bullshit.”

“Hmm,” Ian said noncommittedly as he took the grilled cheese sandwich from Fiona.

“It’s getting crazy out there,” Fiona agreed. “They’ve got all these bullshit curfews now. If you’re caught out passed them, you spend at least one month in jail. No trial, no jury, no warning system. Nothing.”

“Wow,” Ian said.

“Don’t worry though, us and a couple other people are keeping an eye on things out here,” Lip said.

“What?” Ian asked.

“We’ve got a group, sort of like neighborhood watchmen,” Lip explained. “Keeping an eye on new people to see if they’re Order fuckers or Oder spooks or what. Need to keep this area clean from Order involvement.”

Ian ate his sandwich quietly and listened to his family rant about the Order and all the things they were and weren’t doing. He wanted to agree—Hell, he did agree. But he just didn’t share his family’s same attitudes.

“So…” Fiona paused. “What the hell happened to you?”

Ian shrugged. “Joined the army, got sent in, then came out.”

“It was five years, Ian.” Fiona brushed a hand through her hair. “You gotta give me more to go on.”

Ian yawned instead of answering. “Sorry. I’m exhausted from the trek down here.”

“Oh,” Fiona nearly jumped up to pull Ian out of the chair. “Yeah. You should probably get some sleep.”

Fiona hugged him again as she pushed him toward the stairs. His family called out to him, all of them wishing him a good night’s sleep or something similar before he turned the corner and trudged upstairs.

He wasn’t tired though. He just didn’t want to answer their questions.

He took off his boots and coat before creeping back down the steps to perch just behind the wall to listen to his family talking about him. Ian needed to know where they stood and what they were planning before he could figure out his own game plan.

“You think it’s really Ian?” Debbie asked.

“Of course it’s Ian!” Carl argued. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be!”

“Carl! Language!” Fiona said.

“Sorry, Fiona,” Carl said quietly. “But it’s Ian.”

“But what is he doing back here after all this time?” Lip asked.

“He said the Army let him go,” Fiona said. “It must mean that he’s done his service and is free to go back to his old life.”

There was a pause and Ian wished he could see their faces.

“Why? You think it’s something else?” Fiona asked.

“I don’t know,” Lip admitted.

“You thinking spook?” Carl asked angrily.

“I don’t know, Carl. Maybe,” Lip said.

“He’s not a fucking spook!” Carl nearly shouted, ignoring Fiona’s admonishment. “He’s our brother who was just released from the Army after five years of service. Can’t we just be happy about that?”

“Of course we can,” Fiona agreed.

“The timing’s weird, that’s all,” Lip said.

“What timing?” Debbie asked.

“It’s been five years,” Lip said. “And now, just when our group is starting to make plans he comes back?”

“Stop being so skeptical.” Liam’s voice was much quieter than Ian remembered. He couldn’t help but smile at his no-nonsense tone.

“I’m not being skeptical,” Lip argued. “I’m being cautious. We’ve been burned before.”

There was a tense silence and Ian wanted to know what they were talking about, what he had missed.

“So just because Frank turned on us, we shouldn’t trust Ian?” Carl asked.

“I’m just suggesting we be cautious until we know more about him,” Lip said.

“We already know him!” Carl continued to argue and Ian felt an uncomfortable lump rise in his throat at his little brother’s unwavering support. “He’s our fucking brother!”

“You’ve been hanging around with them too much,” Fiona scolded.

“Yeah. Because they actually listen to me!” Carl shouted. He must have pushed his chair out because there was a hard squeak of wood scraping on wood.

“Jesus, Carl. Call down,” Debbie said. “Lip’s just saying to be careful. It’s practical. Ian’d probably say the same thing.”

There was another awkward silence as Ian continued to listen at the stairs.

“I know that he’s still Ian,” Lip said. “I’m just saying be careful.”

“Why?” Carl asked petulantly.

“Because five years is a lot of time,” Lip said.

Ian heard footsteps slowly start toward the stairs and shot up quickly. Silently he rushed up the rest of the stairs and dove under the covers of his old bed.

He willed his heart to slow and breathing to even out—he’d been trained to do that—and waited for them to come and check on him.

It was clearly Liam and Carl who were coming to start getting ready for bed. Ian stayed facing the wall, not daring to move at all.

He wanted to reach out and hug both his little brothers for supporting him, even though it was stupid to show such faith in someone they hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Ian wasn’t a threat. He was, however, a liability. He worried about when they would figure that out.

* * *

“Boys! Time to get up!” Fiona yelled into the room, just as she had every weekday morning for the past week. Everyone had quickly gotten back into their routines while Ian just stumbled around among them.  

Ian groaned and rolled onto his back. He didn’t have to be up yet. He had no reason to be up yet. He didn’t have school or work.

“Ian,” Fiona said as she approached his bed. “I made pancakes this morning.”

“Great,” Ian said rubbing his face. Fiona smiled at him before turning to leave. She did stop to pound on Carl’s bed before walking out.

“She’s like this every morning?” Ian asked, just as he had almost every morning since his first back in the house.

Carl said as he slipped from his bunk. “It’s like she thinks we won’t wake up if she doesn’t.”

“Would you?” Ian challenged as he sat up.

“I’d get to school eventually,” Carl said smiling at him.

Liam slithered passed and ran into the bathroom.

“Damn it, Liam!” Carl called.

“You were taking too long!” Liam shouted back.

For some reason, that exchange between them struck a chord in Ian—the normalcy of it. It reminded him of years ago when it was him and Lip who’d argue over who got the bathroom first.

Ian couldn’t help but smile at how normal everything felt. It was like the last five years had never happened. If he closed his eyes and pretended, he could almost believe that he was supposed to get up and follow them all to school.

“What grade are you in now?” Ian asked quietly as Carl searched for clothes.

“I’m a freshman,” Carl said and didn’t make any eye contact.

“Really?” Ian asked. “That’s great, Carl!”

Carl looked up at him, hesitant excitement on his face. “I’m sixteen though. I’m meant to be a junior actually. But you know…”

Ian nodded. “You had trouble with the sixth grade. I remember.”

Carl only nodded.

“It seems you got it all figured out though,” Ian offered as he stood up to reach for his bag.

“Yeah.”

Ian pulled on a pair of sweatpants, intending to go for a run after breakfast. He watched Carl and sighed.

“Hey,” he said and waited for Carl to turn around. “You should be proud that you got passed it.”

“I’m a sixteen year old freshman,” Carl said. “I should have paid more attention.”

“Well, it’s not only your fault,” Ian argued. “The teachers at our school didn’t have the patience for half their students.”

Ian grabbed his shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He smiled reassuringly at his brother and just hoped that he helped him somewhat. His time away had been consumed by the people he’d left behind. Thoughts of them kept him sane, kept him grounded during everything.

Ian was not going to let them go through the same thing.

“I did it because of you,” Carl said quietly.

Ian didn’t say anything, but kept his hand on Carl’s shoulder.

“You were always the one who was helping me and kept saying that I can do anything I set my mind too,” Carl said laughing. “It was a bunch of bullshit. But after you left it didn’t feel like bullshit anymore, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” Ian said.

“So I started working harder because I wanted to get out like you,” Carl said.

Ian swallowed and let go of Carl’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s safer to just stay where you are.”

Carl nodded. “It really that bad?”

“Yeah, Carl. It was,” Ian admitted.

He felt the panic starting to settle in and needed to get out of there. “I’m gonna go for a run this morning. I’ll see tonight, right?”

Carl nodded. “Yeah. I think Lip’s having the people over to talk to them about you coming back.”

Ian didn’t respond just jogged down the stairs and out the door.

“Going for a run. Be back later!” he called as he ran to the door.

It wasn’t that Ian wasn’t happy to be home. He absolutely was, but he couldn’t help but get the feeling that they were not fully aware of him being back.

It was like they still had this picture of a young naïve boy. They didn’t seem to understand that he was a man now, 23, and had seen more than any of them combined. It’s not anything exactly that they’ve done, but just in all the ways they’ve talked with him over the past week.

He was also concerned about this meeting Lip wanted to set up.

Who was a part of this group after all? Were they people Ian knew? Was it full of people Ian cared about? Would any of them be happy at the prospect of Ian returning home?

He wasn’t sure how his family felt yet.

They seemed happy to see him and have him back in their lives, but something felt off. If he hadn’t eavesdropped that first night, he would be completely lost as to why everyone was so cautious around him.

It’s because they’re worried he’s going to betray them. The funny thing is Ian is in much more danger about them betraying him.

He’d laugh at the irony if he wasn’t aware of the people watching him.

Ian had known when he left that he’d be watched. They would be stupid not to watch him.

Ian Gallagher was a known threat to The Order, or so it said on his file.

That was why he had been gone for so long. He could have left after two years but things got complicated very quickly.

Ian shook his head and continued his light pace. He couldn’t dwell on these thoughts. Not when there were eyes and ears all around just looking, waiting for any sign of him reverting back to rebellion.

He just needed to keep his head down and stay out of the way. He hoped his family was going to be as accommodating.

* * *

“Ian!” Fiona called from the kitchen when he got back a couple hours later.

"Hey, Fi," Ian said as he walked back towards the kitchen.

"How was your run?" Fiona asked. She was just finishing up the dishes. She'd clearly been cleaning up the house since everyone left for school.

Ian wondered if this was her daily routine or just a typical Thursday routine. Did they have routines?

Ian couldn't remember ever really having a routine growing up. At least not one that involved the entire family. They'd had the routine of knowing when the bills were coming due and making the squirrel fund. But other than making sure they all went to school when they were supposed to, every had their own routines.

Ian could still recall all that he did the last year he was home. He'd gone to school, ROTC, and worked at Linda's store while juggling hooking up with Mickey and homework. Every spare minute that wasn't spend with Mickey, homework, or his younger siblings, Ian had been studying. He'd been so determined to make it into West Point.

Funny how something that had meant so much to him barely mattered anymore.

"Ian?" Fiona asked softy.

"Sorry," Ian said, shaking his head. "I got a little distracted."

"I can see that,"Fiona said drying her hands. She poured them each a cup of coffee before leaning over the counter towards him. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ian shook his head. "Just thinking about all the things that I missed."

Fiona sighed sadly. "Yeah. Five years is a long time."

"Yeah. It is," Ian agreed.

Fiona took a drink of her coffee and Ian could feel the uncertainty and questions practically rolling off her. But Fiona was anything if not stubborn and wouldn't pull the Mom card out to force them to talk until she'd played every hand the Sister card offered her.

He wondered offhandedly if he should feel guilty that he was happy that Fiona wasn't going to push him.

"Can I ask you why you left?" Fiona said suddenly.

"To join the army," Ian told her.

"I know that's what you said," Fiona told him. "But I mean why did you decide to run off in the middle of the night?"

"Snap decision," Ian said quietly, those feelings from that time in his life beginning to fizzle their way to the surface.

"So something happened," Fiona asked, even though it wasn't posed as a question.

"Yeah," Ian said softly and cleared his throat. "I knew if I told you, none of you guys would let me."

Lying was easier. It didn't hold the overwhelming threat of emotions. It was clinical and clear-cut. Besides, he'd been lying so long he could practically convince himself.

"You know we would have supported you," Fiona said softly.

"Not in this," Ian said, surprisingly himself at how honest those words felt.

Fiona was quiet.

"Did you know that my dream was to become an officer in the Army?" Ian asked her.

"Well," Fiona started. "I knew--"

"Yes or no."

Fiona sighed and looked down at her hands wrapped around her mug. "No."

"Did you know that I had been studying on my own to try and get into West Point?" Ian demanded.

"Thought Lip was helping you?" Fiona asked.

"When it was convenient for him," Ian responded. "I had to beg him to help me in the first place because he didn't want me anywhere near the Army."

"I guess I didn't know how badly you wanted that," Fiona said after a few minutes.

"None of you did," Ian said.

"I'm sorry," Fiona said and Ian instantly felt guilty.

"It's not your fault, Fiona," Ian told her. "You were busy trying to keep this house afloat. Some things were bound to slip through the cracks."

"Not your entire dreams," Fiona said sadly. "I should have cared about that."

"Well, you would have had you known," Ian said softly.

"I can only hope so," Fiona said.

Ian just watched her turn back to the counter and felt himself sigh. “I’m going to go take a shower and stuff before this meeting.”

“All right,” Fiona said. “People’ll be getting here around seven, so just be ready.”

Ian nodded and wished seven would never arrive.

* * *

Ian heard the voice s drifting up the stairs and into his room. He didn’t really want to go down there. He didn’t want to see anyone else.

Honestly, he just didn’t want to get involved at all.

But the voices got louder and more heated and he wondered if he would need to stop Lip from getting killed.

Ian rolled out of bed and rubbed his hair before walking out of his room and down the stairs.

“What the fuck do you mean we have an insider now?” a voice hissed out.

“Exactly what I fucking said!” Lip replied.

“So you know someone who has been there?” the same voice replied.

“Yeah,” Lip said.

“And who exactly is this person?”

Ian took his final few steps into the kitchen before noticing everyone was in the other room. He did take a few seconds to appreciate the irony of the situation and the dramatic entrance they had set him up with.

He took a few careful steps toward the other room before pausing in the doorway.

“Holy shit,” Veronica said when she saw him.

Everyone turned to him and stared. His whole family was there, Kev and Veronica, and the Milkoviches.

“Ian,” Mickey breathed out. He had been leaning against the wall nearest to the kitchen. He looked like he was seeing a ghost or maybe that he wanted to touch him or something.

Ian looked away.

“You fucking asshole!” Mandy shouted as she launched herself at him.

Ian smiled and caught her. “Hey Mandy.”

“What the fuck are you doing back?” Mandy asked, pulling away from him.

“They let me go,” Ian said loudly, knowing that every other person in the room was waiting for the same answer. “I did my job and they allowed me to return back to my life.”

“See?” Lip challenged. “We’ve got someone who knows how everything works. We’ve got a chance now.”

“Like fucking hell we do!” The same voice, the voice of Terry Milkovich said. “That fucking queer ain’t going to be involved in anything!”

Ian felt Mickey shift away and he wondered just how close he’d been before. He decided it didn’t matter.

“Wanna get out of here?” Ian whispered to Mandy.

“Hell yeah,” she said.

Mandy grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the kitchen. “We’re going out.”

“You guys can’t just leave!” Lip complained.

“Yes we can. I haven’t seen him in years and we have some much needed catching up to do,” Mandy argued.

“You know curfew’s starting soon,” Mickey protested. “It might be better for you guys to stay inside.”

“It won’t be,” Mandy said. “See you guys later.”

“Ian! You better come over and visit me soon!” Veronica shouted.

Ian nodded and was pulled out of the back door by Mandy. He took a deep breath of air and felt his shoulders relax.

“You okay?” Mandy asked quietly as they sat down on the back steps.

Ian shrugged.

“You back for good?” Mandy pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Yeah,” Ian said, taking the cigarette from her. At least he hoped so.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Mandy asked. “You fucking leave and I don’t hear anything from you until your asshole brother announced at a meeting that you were dead.”

Ian was quiet.

“Mickey was about to beat the shit out of him, but I beat him to it,” Mandy said quietly. “We couldn’t believe that you were gone.”

Mandy sighed. “But Debbie brought out the official letter and let us all read it. We had no choice but to believe it.”

Ian swallowed, once again faced with the reality that they had wanted to kill him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mandy said. “I knew that when we had said goodbye it might be the last time I ever saw you. I just knew you were a clever shit and figured you’d get yourself out of any situations you found yourself in over there.”

Mandy took a deep breath. “But hearing your brother talk about it like it was just another minor detail… It was awful.”

“He can be an asshole sometimes,” Ian said nudging her shoulder.

“Sometimes?” Mandy challenged. “All the time to us Milkoviches. Especially to Mickey.”

“What do you mean?” Ian hadn’t wanted to ask that. In fact he wanted to ask the opposite of that.

“It’s just a feeling, but it felt like he brought up your death right when Mickey was trying to fight for a bigger part in Lip’s little group. He was tired of feeling left out and used for jobs that Lip deigned beneath him.”

“Nice use of the word deigned,” Ian interrupted when Mandy paused.

“Thanks,” she replied. “But right when Mickey had a lot of support from the rest of the group, Lip went on this speech about how we all have to work together to break the system that killed you.”

“Jesus,” Ian said quietly.

“Yeah. It was worse being there.” Mandy took another drag from her cigarette before passing it back to Ian. “I was devastated and Mickey clearly was too. But the way he looked at Mickey…It was like he thought no one else had the right to know what had happened to you. I just had to punch him for that.”

“Sounds like Lip,” Ian muttered. He wanted to defend his brother, but he could be incredibly selfish when he wanted to be.

“I know he’s always hated us,” Mandy said softly. “He’s used us when he needed something done, but I really thought he would have at least told me. We’re best friends.”

Ian wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Mandy leaned into him and put out her cigarette.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re home!” Mandy said to him.

“Me either,” Ian replied honestly.

The sirens went off.

“That’s my signal to leave,” Mandy said. “Curfew starts in thirty.”

Ian stood and then helped her up. She hugged him again.

“You have a phone yet?” Mandy asked.

“Not yet, no.”

“I’ll get you one,” Mandy said. “That way you don’t have to give anyone your number you don’t want to.”

She gave him a knowing look, like she knew exactly what had been happening here. He remember why she’d stayed his best friend for years before he left.

“Thanks, Mandy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow right?” Mandy asked.

Ian nodded and pulled her in for a hug. “I missed you, Mandy.”

“Back at ya, asshole,” Mandy returned. She let him go and turned away.

Ian stood on the back porch, watching Mandy walk down the alley and back home. He wished that the could go with her—Actually, no, he didn’t want to go and be trapped there by Terry, but he did wish Mandy was still around.

He had missed her . He’d missed everyone.

“Ay, Gallagher!”

Ian closed his eyes and released a breath before turning around to face Mickey.

He looked just how Ian remembered him, except a little less frayed around the edges. He looked stronger and like he’d figured out a thing or two on how to let things go. But there was that happy spark that Ian remembered behind his eyes, though this time it was tapered with hesitation, caution.

“You really back?” Mickey asked standing at the base of the stairs.

“Looks that way,” Ian replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mickey bit at his bottom lip and looked away. “For good?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey looked back at him and started to take a step up the stairs but Ian stopped him.

“Curfew’s starting soon,” Ian said with finality in his tone. 

“Ian!” Mickey hissed and Ian almost, _almost_ caved.

How many times had he begged for Mickey to call him his real name? How long did he wait for the moment that he’d know just what Mickey thought of him?

But he can’t—he _wouldn’t_ turn around and start again. He deserved a part in any relationship he had and he’d never felt that with Mickey. He was always a warm mouth, a hard dick, willing to do anything Mickey wanted because he just wanted to be with him.

Ian wasn’t the same seventeen year old puppy anymore.

Ian left him on the step and walked back into the Gallagher house. He wondered if it was ever going to feel like _home_ again.

* * *

Ian jolted himself awake, the dregs of the dream still jagged and cutting through him. He stared at the ceiling, willing the eerie shadows from the street lights to be enough to steady him. The dreams had been happening since before he’d left, but being here, having to listen to Lip’s plans and all those meetings, caused dreams and nightmares to happen almost every night.

He counted his breaths, forcing his heart to slow.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Ian felt his body begin to uncoil but it was no less tense.

_Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine._

“Ian?”

Ian bolted up, his eyes shifting around the room. Liam was watching him carefully from the other side.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Ian nodded and rubbed t his face. “Yeah. Just a dream.”

“Oh,” Liam said softly. “I have bad dreams sometimes too. Did you want me to read to you until you fall asleep?”

Ian shook his head and smiled. “No, Liam. I’ll be fine. Go back to sleep.”

Liam nodded and Ian laid back down, though he could tell his little brother was still watching him carefully.

He remembered sitting up with Liam for hours before he’d left. He’d gone through a period of time where he would wake up from terrifying nightmares every night. He’d either run and hide until everyone else woke up or he’d wake up one of his brothers and ask them to read to him.

Ian was the one he woke the most.

Ian had never minded because that was what being a big brother meant. He was there to fix problems and to make his younger siblings’ lives easier. He liked knowing that he didn’t have to be the “bad guy” like Fiona all the time—she was only ever allowed to really be a parent to them.

Ian just got to be their older brother. He was able to sneak them out of the house when they were grounded. He was able to convince Fiona to let them out of punishments early. And he was the one they came to when they needed advice or someone to listen.

He’d forgotten that since being away.

Ian glanced up at Carl asleep in the top bunk. How much had he missed?

Carl was on a much better track than he had been when Ian had left. He was actually going to school and he seemed to _care_ which was major. Were there nights when Carl wished he Ian was still there because there was a girl he liked or a class he was having trouble in?

It wasn’t the Fiona and Lip weren’t capable of helping them, but sometimes being the parental figures made the rest of them unwilling to share.

It took him over a year to tell Lip about Mickey and even then it wasn’t very detailed. It was really just to get Lip off his back about the whole Kash thing anyways. And Fiona…she never knew.

Did they know now? Was it some unspoken rule that everyone knew what had happened between Ian and Mickey all those years ago, but no one’s allowed to bring it up?

Ian’s thoughts wandered back to Mickey as they so often did. He was the light in the darkness for Ian. He was the one solid thing he could hold onto while away, the one last true piece of himself—the one piece that they couldn’t tear away from him.

Maybe they didn’t know? But Ian had a hard time believing that. They must not have known how deep Ian was before he got out. They probably thought, just like everyone else besides Ian, that they were just fucking to pass the time and shared a secret in this shitty neighborhood.

They weren’t fooled at all because they saw what was there. Ian was because he saw his own stupid, fucked up fantasy of what he thought was there.

How fucking pathetic. He’s lying in bed, skin still clammy from a nightmare, and thinking about Mickey.

Ian couldn’t help but wonder how Mickey took everything when he left. Did he fall apart? Did he find someone new? Did Ian ever matter to him?

It was safe to wonder these questions alone in the dark because there were never any answers that Ian couldn’t live with. If he voiced these questions in the day, the answers might make him give up all together.

Ian laid in bed staring at the ceiling for hours. His mind on a constant loop of the people he left behind and what they were doing now.

It had been five years. Everyone changes in five years time. Everything changes in five years.

Ian wished the sun would hurry up and rise because the darkness was starting to get to him. It reminded him of _then._

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. It was in the past and everything is fine. He got out and is back home with his family. He had no reason to think about being back there anymore.

He needed some air, even if it was dark outside.

Ian got up as quietly as he could. He wondered how long he’d been laying there debating over whether or not to get up. Probably a couple hours at least.

He slipped on some running clothes and grabbed his watch and cell phone from the table beside his bed. It was already 5:43 in the morning.

_Not too insanely early to have a run._

Ian smiled as he walked down the steps and out the back door, quiet so he wouldn’t wake anyone else up.

After shutting the door behind him, Ian took a deep breath and let his head fall back. His lungs didn’t feel like they were constricting anymore and he could see that he wasn’t trapped. Ever since being there the dark and one room areas make him feel unsure and unsafe.

Ian shook his head  and started running. He let his mind wander back to the people he’d left behind.

What was Fiona doing now? He wondered if there was anyone special in her life. She’d always liked having a boyfriend before and he hoped that she found someone who made her happy. Someone who genuinely cared about her and understood her role as guardian to Debbie, Carl, and Liam.

He knows that she’s working at some diner now. She’s always coming home with these shirts that say Patty’s or Pastey’s or some other P word. It’s nice to see her stable a bit.

Lip was just about to start college when Ian had left. He’d been furious to have to go because he didn’t want to. Ina hopwed that he had stayed and actually done something with his life.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t doing anything now or that it sucks having him around because it doesn’t. He liked that all his family was under one roof for now. It was reminding him of how it all used to be. It was making that adjustment a little easier.

Did Lip have a job? A girlfriend? Lip had always bounced around from girl to girl because he didn’t really want to commit to anyone. It’s not a bad thing, but the problem was that he never wanted to tell them. He’d just sort of stop talking to them and wait for them to hear that he was with someone else.

Last he knew, Lip was bouncing back and forth between Mandy Milkovich and Karen Jackson. Given Mandy’s less than appreciative attitude toward his brother, he’s betting that Lip chose Karen over Mandy. Were they still together? How long ago was this?

His little sister was a senior in high school. She had the entire world at her feet, just waiting and ready for the taking. He’d always known that Debbie was destined for great things. Whether it was family or schooling, Debbie was ambitious and knew how to get what she wanted.

He really hoped she didn’t have a boyfriend because he wasn’t sure how that was going to sit with him. Yes, it was hypocritical to say since he was fucking Kash since he was fifteen and then Mickey and him were sort of together since he was sixteen, but this was Debbie! It was his sweet, innocent little sister.

Even if she was seeing someone, Ian knew that he’d get over his shock because he just wanted Debbie to be happy. He just wanted everyone to be happy.

He should have just stayed away then.

Ian should have never come back here when they released him. He should have just gone to another state, another city and started a new life there. One that was free of this baggage and past transgressions.

Ian found himself outside the Milkovich house. He stopped on the sidewalk, just staring up at it.

Had it always been this intimidating? Had there been times when he had wanted to step foot inside? Or was it welcoming, knowing there were two people inside who wanted him? Two people who cared about him?

He knew that his family cared for him—at least they cared for the Ian he had been before he left. He honestly wasn’t sure if they still cared about him.

Ian couldn’t fault them for that. After all he had been the one to leave. It had been his choice, his _dream_ to join the army. They had let him.

And they had moved on. It was clear that they had let him go years ago so him seemingly coming back from the dead was a shock.

But his family had never cared for him the way Ian had needed someone to. That had always been Mandy and Mickey. Even though he hadn’t realized it, Mickey had been there for Ian so much more than his family had.

Mickey deserved some sort of explanation or closure. Ian owed him that much at least.

He could just go up there now. He could call Mandy and tell her to ask Mickey to come outside. They could have their closure and Mickey could have the conversation he’d wanted the other night. Then they could go their separate ways and feel better for it.

But it was only seven in the morning and he doubted the Milkoviches were up yet. They all had to have afternoon or post-curfew jobs. That was more their style.

What did Terry do for a living? He had to do something to keep the patrols off his back.

Ian quickly glanced around to see if there was anyone watching him. He didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

He needed to find a job before they started checking on him. It would be his top priority this week.

The door to the Milkovich house opened and Mandy stepped out, dressed in fairly nice business attire. She paused when she saw him standing there.

“Ian? The fuck are you doing here so early?” She walked down the steps toward him.

“I was out for a run and found myself outside,” Ian said as if that explained everything.

“And didn’t think to try the door? Or give me a call?”

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. “I was going to call but I thought you might still be sleeping. It’s early yet.”

“Yeah, I used to. But I have a fancy job now. One that requires me to be there between eight and eight-thirty every morning,” Mandy explained. “Walk with me to the L?”

Ian fell into step beside her. “What are you doing now?”

“I’m a social worker.”

“No shit?” Ian asked.

“What you think I can’t do this shitty job?” Mandy asked.

Ian shook his head. “No! I think  you’d be great at it. I just didn’t think you’d want to do this type of job.”

“Yeah well. Things change and it became my option,” Mandy said. “Besides, it’s not so bad. I’m pretty good at spotting the kids who need help since I know all the signs.”

They lapsed into silence at the memory of Mandy’s life. Ian never knew how to respond in moments like these because he didn’t share her memories, her pain. He couldn’t say stupid optimistic shit because it’s sounds fake coming form him. And Mandy didn’t want or need his pity.

So he just stayed silent and wrapped an arm around her as they walked.

“How’s life at the Gallagher house?” Mandy asked after half a block of walking.

Ian shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“Hard to be back?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah. It’s tough on them to have me back out of the blue after thinking I was dead for a while.”

“It’s been three years,” Mandy admitted. At Ian’s look she clarified, “It’s been three years since they got the letter stating your death.”

“Oh,’ Ian said. He’d expected something around that time, but it was still shocking to hear. But at this point, it was probably easier talking about his death than his surprise return. Death you can overcome and grieve; people returning from the dead are a lot more startling.

“Hay Mandy, can I ask you something?” Ian asked.

“Sure.” She didn’t look at him and he wondered if she knew what he was going to ask.

“How did everyone take it—my death I mean,” Ian asked softly.

“Oh,” Mandy paused. “Um, good I guess. Some better than others. Or maybe they were just better at hiding it. I don’t know.”

Ian exhaled and bit his lip.

“Look, this is a tough subject to talk about in our three block walk to the station,” Mandy said suddenly.

“Oh right. I didn’t even think about that,” Ian said.

“I know you didn’t,” Mandy said smugly. “Can we rain-check on this?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course,” Ian said. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that.”

“It’s fine. I just really don’t want to get into it on my way to work.”

They approached the station and Ian awkwardly paused. “I’ll see you later then?”

Mandy nodded. “Ian?”

“Yeah?” Ian asked turning back around.

“If you want to talk about, you could ask Mickey,” Mandy suggested. “He’s dying to talk to you. He’ll be home alone this afternoon. Like around two.”

Ian shook his head but smiled. “I’ll see. Thanks, Mandy.”

Ian turned away and started walking back towards his house.

He knew that he had no intention of actually going over to talk to Mickey. He just wasn’t ready to really hear about how great Mickey was doing without him and how his death was the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

And the part of him that was ready to talk to Mickey was afraid of the answers he was going to get.

Everything was too fresh yet to start examining gold wounds. He needed to let his wounds heal a bit before reopening them again otherwise he might bleed out on the floor and there’d be nothing left to him.

Was there anything left to him now?

* * *

“What happened while I was away?” Ian asked a few nights later at dinner.

Everyone stopped.

Ian had been trying to figure out his place among his family, this _new_ family and it wasn’t working out. He wasn’t the steadfast brother anymore like he saw himself. He’d left and they had all thought he wasn’t coming back.

But he also wasn’t the seventeen year old boy with his heart on his sleeve like his family thinks.

He figured the best way to figure out his new place was to figure out what all happened while he was gone.

“You have to know how the world changed,” Lip said.

“I know that,” Ian said. “I meant with you guys. What did I miss?”

“Ian, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Fiona said gently.

“Why?” Ian asked.

“Well, it’s just that you’ve been through a lot and I think it’s going to be painful to bring up old memories,” she finished explaining.

“I’m not a child, Fiona. I know what I’m asking,” Ian argued. “I want to know what happened with you guys while I was gone.”

Everyone stayed silent.

“If you really don’t want to tell me, I get it. It’s probably not an easy thing to have a dead family member return to the house,” Ian said picking at his casserole. “It’s not an easy thing to return from the dead and not know anything that happened to my family while I was gone either.”

Debbie reached out to put her hand on his. “You didn’t miss a whole lot with me. I just have been going to school and things.

“I had a boyfriend for a while, but it’s whatever,” she finished and waved her hand. “I’m applying for colleges right now. I’m hoping to do something with psychology or sociological studies because of what happened with Karen and Shelia. It’s awful when the system takes advantage of people.”

“What happened with the Jacksons?” Ian asked, looking between Lip and Fiona who were staring at each other.

“Nothing!” Lip said.

“Karen was taken away,” Carl said.

“Carl!” Fiona and Lip both said.

“What? He asked and I told him,” Carl said. “It’s not like Ian had a hand in it.”

“You can’t just go around and tell people whatever the fuck you want!” Lip shouted. “I don’t want to fucking talk about how Karen was taken away because of her bat-shit crazy mother!”

Ian tried not to let his wince show at his brother’s callous language. They’d all had a sore spot for mental illness since their mother did all that she did. But it wasn’t an excuse. He felt his vision blur and the voice, the ever present voice question: _Do you have any predisposition to Bipolar or Schizophrenia?_

“Everyone out,” Fiona said. “Now!”

Ian watched them leave and was grateful for the supportive look Carl threw his way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lip asked once the younger kids were upstairs. Ian had a second to wonder if they were sitting and listen just behind the wall like he had his first night.

“What?” Ian asked.

“You don’t k know what we fucking went through. You have no right to demand answers to things you don’t fucking understand!” Lip said.

Ian glared at him and felt his fist clench. “Don’t think I don’t fucking know what happens out there.”

“Boys, let’s calm down,” Fiona said putting up a hand.

“Ian, what Lip _means_ is that we’ve gone through a lot,” Fiona explained. “A lot that we’d rather not talk or think about.”

“Like my death,” Ian offered.

“Sort of,” Fiona said. “With you we knew what had happened. Or at least we thought we did. With other people…We’re not so sure what happened to them.”

“You think Karen might still be alive somewhere”” Ian asked softly.

“We hope,” Fiona corrected.

“Why?” Ian asked. “Isn’t it easier to just let them go and move on?”

“Because I love her!” Lip said passionately. “So of course I fucking hope. Just because you gave up on someone you loved doesn’t mean I will. I’m going to continue to hope she’s still alive because I love her too much to let her go.”

“Then you’re a fucking idiot,” Ian said as he stood up. “If you loved her at all, you’d pray that she was killed.”

“Ian!” Fiona scolded and gave him that look that made him think she still saw him as a seventeen year old boy. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Death is s kindness,” Ian said. “It’s the ones that they keep alive that are tortured the longest.”

“How would you know?” Lip questioned.

“Because I know,” Ian said. He stood and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He just couldn’t stand being there anymore.

Ian started walking through the neighborhood as he let his thoughts drift—never onto anything serious. He needed to stay in control of himself.

When he found himself outside the Jackson’s home, he wasn’t surprised. He knew that had been his intended destination since he’d heard Lip’s comment about Karen being taken away because of Shelia.

Ian wanted to know what happened because he wanted to check on Shelia. She had always been so sweet to everyone and he could only imagine how devastated she was knowing that Karen was gone. He knew that he’d be.

He saw her open the door and stand there with her coat on and a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide and terrified as she took in the world outside her door.

It broke his heart to see her struggling so much just to leave her home. She was making tremendous strides when he had left.

Ian watched as Shelia dejectedly closed the doors. He could see she was breathing heavy and he assumed she was crying.

Maybe he’d go and visit her this week. It was the least he could. Make sure she didn’t feel so alone.

Maybe it would be for him too. To have someone there who might listen to him and actually talk to him.

Either way, he knew that he would go there. He knew what it felt like to be alone.

Ian would never wish that on anyone.

* * *

Ian stood in the corner of the room, quietly taking in the arguments forming between Terry, Lip, Mickey, and Veronica. It had been the same argument they were having for months now. No one was willing to back down from their positions, nor  _listen_ to any other input.

That’s what happens when you throw together a group of people who’d only ever looked after themselves and expected them to work as a team. He could have told them that, but they wouldn’t listen.

Just like Lip never listened to him when he voiced that same concern after the meetings.

Everyone was content to go around and pretend like they were a group of saviors when they were really a bunch of idiots parading around pretending like they’re doing things for the benefits of other people.

“Ian, can I get some back up here?” Lip asked him.

Ian turned his gaze to him, his hands still clasped tightly behind his back.

“Fucking perfect,” Lip said. “The only person who can actually help us doesn’t want to pay attention.”

Ian frowned but didn’t respond. He hadn’t been paying attention to the words they were hurling at each other. They were the same every week.

Instead, he’d been focused on watching through the slit in the window, keeping an eye on the doors, and making sure that no one was about to break in. Someone had to be ready for The Order to break them apart and Ian would be damned if it he was unawares when that happened.

“Maybe he just agrees with me,” Terry said suddenly with a terrifying smirk. “Doesn’t want to hurt your pretty little head about it.”

“I highly doubt that,” Veronica said. “No one’s on your side.”

They started arguing and Ian found himself beginning to breathe heavily. He could hear his family’s voices but they were morphing into other voices, voices from a long time ago.

_What are we going to do with him?_

_He hasn’t given up his ways like he was supposed to._

_He tried to leave._

_Send him to the Underworld._

Someone advanced on Ian and he lashed up, shoving his forearm into their chest to push them away. He couldn’t hear anything but the buzzing in his ears and his own voice screaming in his head. He needed to get out; he needed to escape before they took him back.

Ian rushed through the room and ran outside, the door slamming behind him. He took off running, not knowing where he was going but knowing that he had to get away. He needed to get away from that concrete building because that’s where things happened. That’s where the demons dwelled.

Very quickly, his adrenaline rush faded and he stopped to breathe. Ian glanced around and saw he was near the abandoned building area.

He wasn’t being chased by Order members. He wasn’t about to be taken captive again. He was free. He was safe. He was _alive._

Ian repeated that mantra as he climbed the stairs to the roof. He was alive. He wasn’t trapped anymore. He was finally set free.

Ian leaned against a wall, staring out over the ruined city beneath him and breathed it in. When his phone vibrated he pulled it out and saw Mandy calling him.

“I’m fine,” Ian said in lieu of a greeting. “I just needed some space.”

“Where are you?” Mandy demanded.

“Abandoned buildings,” Ian told her. “I won’t be long.”

Mandy paused and then said, “Okay. Don’t forget about curfew.”

“Don’t tell me family,” Ian said softly and then hung up.

Ian loved his family, he did, he had to have. But this new Ian was having a hard time with them. They didn’t fully trust him or seem to want him around, but they expected Ian to want to be around them. It was difficult to work with them on it.

They didn’t seem to appreciate the position he was in. He just needed to integrate back into society otherwise they would come back for him. They had to. They wouldn’t just let him go without a fight if they knew what he was doing now.

But he wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t.

“Ian?”

Ian jumped out of his skin and away from the wall. His heart pounding and fists raised he turned to search out the person who’d sneaked up on him. _Foolish boy. Letting your guard down._

Mickey stood in front of him, his hands raised in surrender as his eyes searched his face.

Suddenly Ian felt exhausted and he just wanted to collapse. He wanted to curl up and hide away from the world.

No, he wanted to curl up with Mickey. He wanted Mickey to beat back his demons and keep him safe.

But he couldn’t have that.

“You okay?” Mickey asked softly when Ian calmed down a bit and straightened up. “You just sort of high tailed it outta there.”

Ian didn’t respond for a very long time. He didn’t know _how_ to respond. He wasn’t used to the conversational aspect of socialization anymore. He knew that he wanted say that of fucking course he wasn’t fine because all the people he cared about were trying to organize a rebellion that would see them all taken and tortured and killed. He wanted to tell Mickey that he knew exactly what happened when you were taken. But that would raise more questions and Ian didn’t want to answer them.

Ian just turned away and looked out over the city again. He heard Mickey move closer to him but he didn’t reach out for him.

“I missed ya,” Mickey mumbled into the night. Ian ignored him.

“Are you just going to fucking ignore me forever?” Mickey asked angrily. “Act like nothing happened between us?”

Ian turned to him, his jaw steeled and face hard. “There was nothing between us.”

Mickey gaped at him as Ian turned to walk away. “Are you fucking kidding me? We were together for over two years.”

“We were never together,” Ian said, not breaking his stride. “We fucked a couple times. End of the story.”

“Eh. Ey!” Mickey raced up to him and grabbed his arm. Ian had been expecting it so he didn’t react but he could feel the heat of Mickey’s hand burning on his arm.

Ian stopped walking and turned to look at him. He made sure to keep his face carefully blank.

“That’s really all you’re gonna say to me?” Mickey asked. “You come back after five years and that’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?” Ian asked.

“That you missed me! That you hated to leave! That you meant to call! That you hate me! That you never even meant to return! Something. Fucking anything would be better than this silence,” Mickey admitted.

Ian shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I left all this behind me when I joined the army.”

“There’s nothing there anymore?” Mickey asked quietly.

“You expected us to just pick up where we left off now that I’m not dead?” Ian asked.

“No. I would if you want to, but no. I just—I wanted to know if…” Mickey trailed off and dropped his hand.

_I wanted to know if you want to start fucking again._

_I wanted to know if you will talk to me._

_I wanted to know if we can go back to how we were._

_I wanted to know if you ever cared about me, loved me._

There were many questions Mickey could have been posing then, but Ian’s answer would have been the same regardless.

“No.”

Ian turned and left Mickey atop the abandoned building and made his way back to the Gallagher house trying to pretend he didn’t feel like one of the last remaining barricades just came crashing down around him.

* * *

Ian wasn’t feeling like himself. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He felt as much like himself as he was anymore.

The problem was that his family wasn’t treating him like _Ian._ They were treating him like the young boy who’d left for the army five years ago.

To them, he’s still the same confused boy who was chasing after the wrong men and needed his family to point him in the right direction. It’s like his family cannot comprehend that he’s been alive and aging in those five years he was gone.

They are acting like he’s still seventeen and they’re trying to control what he does and live his life for him.

If only they knew what he’d gone through while away. They’d stop treating him like a child. But they’d probably tread even more carefully around him.

Fiona was constantly following him around and trying to mother him in a way she hadn’t done in years. She wanted to know what he was doing, who he was seeing, how he was feeling though it felt like that was only because she needed to try and control it all.

She didn’t like that he was hanging out with Mandy Milkovich again because she still thought that Mandy was somehow responsible for Ian running off. Fiona also got him a job at the diner where she works now. He knew that he needed something because it was really only just a matter of time before the Order caught up to him. But he’d have at least liked to have been consulted.

Lip just didn’t really talk to him. He talked _at_ Ian and constantly tried to get him to join their crusade. Ian just wasn’t interested and Lip could not understand that.

Debbie, Carl, and Liam were the only ones who really talked to him and cared about him. They still treated him like they used to, but less controlling about it. Liam was also the one who’d wake up whenever Ian was dreaming.

They had a mutual understanding of sorts.

It was comforting, to know that he had people who were there to look out for him.

So it really shouldn’t have surprised him when, after a panic attack at the Gallagher home, his phone beeped with a message from Mandy.

_On my way._

They knew that Ian needed to be alone. They seemed to understand the pressure Ian felt when around his family, even though he wished that he didn’t. He was sick over the looming threat of this rebellion that Lip was hell-bent on persuading. It was making him sick and he just wasn’t sure he could do it anymore.

He wanted to grab his brother and shake him and scream, “You don’t know what happens out there. You won’t fucking survive this!”

But that would only force Lip to act quicker. His ego and pride were the two things that fueled him more than anything else.

Ian heard the footsteps and realized Mandy wasn’t the Milkovich coming to check on him. He wanted to be angry with her, but he was too exhausted already. At the very least, Mickey wouldn’t push him to talk.

“You okay?” Mickey’s voice was quiet and gentle and Ian couldn’t handle it.

He needed to forget what happened, himself, his family for a little while and Mickey was the perfect distraction.

Ian grabbed Mickey’s shirt and yanked him forward to clash their lips together. It was messy and hard but felt _right._ Ian tried not to think about it as his hands clenced in Mickey’s shirt.

Mickey kissed him back, his arms coming around Ian and he was just as desperate as Ian.

Ian let go of Mickey’s shirt to glide his hands over Mickey’s chest and to his shoulders. He pushed Mickey’s jacket off and let it fall to the floor. Ian’s arms wound around Mickey to pull him closer, their kiss still intense, neither one wanted to give up the fight for dominance, neither one wanted it to end.

Ian started walking toward a wall, careful to keep a firm grip on Mickey, until Mickey’s back was up against the wall. He tore his lips away and trailed kisses along Mickey’s jaw and neck. Mickey’s breath hitched and Ian was hit by all the memories of Mickey:  where he liked to be touched, how sensitive he was in areas, the little gasp or hitch in his breath that signaled to Ian to continue.

Mickey was so easy to read, to understand, when they were fucking. Everything came flooding back to Ian and it was just as simple, just as normal as it was years ago.

“Jesus, Ian, what are you doing?” Mickey asked.

Ian shook his head but didn’t stop his assault on Mickey’s neck. “Trying to fuck you.”

“Fuck,” Mickey said as his hands grabbed onto Ian, one grabbing his waist and the other cradling his head. “You sure this is a good idea?”

Ian pulled away and stared down at Mickey. “You don’t want me to fuck you?”

Mickey broke eye contact but didn’t let go of him. “”Course I do. Wanted that since you came back. But I just don’t understand why now.”

“Well, we could talk about it more,” Ian said dropping his hand to Mickey’s waist and toying with the zipper of his jeans. “Or we could just fuck instead.”

Ian’s hand grazed Mickey’s dick in a show of unzipping his pants. Mickey’s eyes widened and that hand on his hip clenched.

“Get on me,” Mickey demanded.

Ian merely smirked at him as he undid Mickey’s pants and let them fall to his ankles. Ian dropped to his knees to take Mickey into his mouth. There was no teasing, no preamble, which made Mickey’s knees buckle and a hand grab at Ian’s hair.

Ian remembered that Mickey had been very tactile when they fucked before he’d left. He couldn’t help but wonder who Mickey had been with while he was gone.

Ian pulled off of Mickey because he needed to fuck him, needed to make him make all the sounds he used to. He needed to remember that _he_ could still do this, could still turn tough Mickey MIlkovich into a pile of goo, could still make him breathy and submissive, and moaning Ian’s name.

The need was so intense Ian felt like he wasn’t going to be able to focus unless he did it.

Mickey kicked off his pants and shoes as Ian yanked off his own pants. He didn’t take off his shirt.

He turned Mickey to face the wall and quickly dug out a quick packet of lube and a condom from his wallet. He coated his fingers and quickly began prepping Mickey.

Mickey let his head fall onto the wall in front of him as Ian opened him up. Ian couldn’t help but wonder how many times had they done this? How many times had Ian dug through his pants or Mickey’s to find the lube and condoms? How many times had they actually fucked and done this?

Mickey was tighter than Ian remembered, so he took more time with him. Did that mean Mickey hadn’t been fucked  by anyone in a while? The thought warmed in Ian’s stomach even though he knew it was bullshit. Mickey is not some damsel in distress who just waited around for Ian to return for him. He wouldn’t just wait around or give up on sex because Mickey _liked_ sex and was good at it.

It was probably just harder for him to have regular sex since Ian wasn’t stopping by to hang out with Mandy and they weren’t working at the store together anymore. Maybe their old routine of nearly daily sex wasn’t what Mickey aspired to have with his next partner.

Ian shook his head. Having sex was supposed to free his mind from nagging questions and doubts, not bring them back ten-fold.

“Gallagher, you’d best get your dick in me in the next few seconds or you won’t have a dick for much longer,” Mickey threatened.

Ian chuckled and hated that the use of ‘Gallagher’ was enough to make Ian forget everything else that happened between them. It was just like things hadn’t never gone South on them. Like the past didn’t matter.

And maybe it didn’t, Ian thought to himself as he thrust in. Maybe the past was the past and didn’t have to have an impact on the present, on the future.

That was Ian’s last conscious thought before he lost himself to Mickey. For the first time since returning back, he felt…normal again.

* * *

Ian wanted to throw something. Actually he wanted to punch Lip because he just wasn’t  _listening_ .

Lip had always been stubborn and rarely listened to advice from others. But Ian wasn’t just some random person who popped in from the street. Ian was his brother, his oldest friend, his right hand man. At least he used to be.

More than that, though, Ian was a survivor. He knew exactly what happened out there in the big world that no one talked about. He _understood_ it because it runs through him constantly. He _lived_ it.

However, Lip clearly wasn’t listening to anything that Ian was saying because he just didn’t care. He wanted to stage a riot and force the Order’s hand.

It was suicide, which is exactly what Ian told him.

“Lip, this isn’t some rescue mission or protest. It’s a fucking suicide mission,” Ian said for what felt like the thousandth time since he returned home and was expected to join this ground of Merry Men.

“Not if you give us the information we need to outsmart them,” Lip argued.

“It’s not that simple,” Ian responded through his teeth.

“It is,” Lip said. “All you have to do is tell us what they’ll be like and how they’re most likely to respond and we can craft a perfect protest!”

Ian shook his head and rubbed at his neck. He wondered if a brick wall would give away easier under his words than his brother was currently doing.

Not a single person raised any issues—no concerns for Lip or support for him. They were all silent as Lip and Ian battled it out.

Lip kept fighting because he thought that he would win. Ian knew that he wouldn’t. Ian didn’t give up until he wanted to. He’d been trained that way.

“It’s simple,” Lip said coming closer to Ian. “All we have to do is send out word that we’re all meeting in the park. And then we’ll start raising questions.”

Ian sighed. “What kinds of questions?”

“Like, why is our town not beautified like others,” Lip suggested.

“What happens to the people who are taken?” Fiona said. “Will we ever see them again?”

Fiona and Lip shared a meaningful glance but Ian paid it little attention.

“How come death certificates come in the mail if the dead are not really dead?” Carl threw out.

“What about all the other places in the world?” Mandy suggested.

Ian let their questions and issues was over him. They were all fools, ignorant fools who needed to understand their place in this world, this world that didn’t _care_ about them so long as they fulfilled the need.

“And what will that solve?” Ian asked. “If  you meet and raise your questions, what exactly are you hoping you’ll achieve?”

“Answers,” Lip said as though it was obvious.

“You think you’ll get answers?” Ian chuckled and shook his head.

“They’ll have no choice,” Lip continued, “Once they see how many people have gathered. They’ll be forced to make a statement.”

“No. They won’t,” Ian said. “You don’t force them to _do_ anything.”

“You honestly expect them to just sit quietly with the whole of Chicago rallies against them?” Lip questioned.

“I think you’re over-estimating your reach, Lip.”

Lip glared at him and Fiona placed a hand on his chest and stepped forward. “They won’t just take this lying down, Ian.”

Ian looked at Fiona. “Who said they’ll be docile?”

Ian shook his head and began to pace. “Just because they actively choose not to publicly respond doesn’t mean there would be no response at all. They could place more ghosts in this city to sniff out the rebels and bring them in for questioning.

“If that doesn’t work, they could make a public statement but it wouldn’t be what you guys want to hear. It’d be about the fact that leaders of Chicago clearly weren’t allowing their lesser citizens access to all the history pamphlets, the news pamphlets. They’d turn it around to make you look like fools because you didn’t know the ‘truth’ of what happens.

“If not that, maybe they’ll speak out against you guys. They’ll make it out to be that you guys are deliberately avoiding the truth of the world because you want to rule it. They’ll make you out to be dictators and fascists and compare you to the Vipers of Africa, to the Regimes of Canada. No one will jump to your side; they’ll ignore you and make you a pariah in your own neighborhood. Perhaps the very people who stand with you in the park will turn you in to The Order.

“Or maybe they won’t say anything at all and just round everyone up in the park like cattle and take them in for questioning. Just get rid of the whole crop before they sickly plants can infect the others.

“What if they decide to just burn the field all together?” Ian started at his brother.

“Like, all of Chicago?” Veronica asked softly.

“Yeah,” Ian said, his breathing ragged as his anger pulsed.

“They’d do that?” Debbie said.

“Sometimes it’s easier just to burn the entire field with the harvest still in it than to pick out the few back crops. I mean, what’s a few burned good crops if you get rid of all the bad ones?” Ian looked down.

“But what would happen to this city? People would question it,” Fiona argued.

“Maybe. But those who question The Order don’t stay around for too long, do they?” Ian said. “They’d come up with some story and just move on. Maybe they’d say they torn down the city to create a new Army Base that was more centrally located.

“They’re the Order,” Ian said softly. “They can do whatever they want.”

“Which is exactly why we need to fight!” Lip argued.

Ian shook his head. “No. It’s exactly why you don’t fight. Why you _can’t_ fight. It’s not a fight you can win. For fuck’s sake, it’s not even a fight you’d survive.”

“Better to die trying to stand up for yourself and others than to live a traitor,” Lip said quietly.

Ian glared at him. “Dying solves nothing except population control.”

“I’d be dying trying to fight a system you are trying to uphold!” Lip shouted.

“Fuck you,” Ian spat. No one knew how those words tore Ian apart from the inside.

“I’m just saying that truth.”

“You want the truth then?” Ian asked. “You’re not doing this for the sake of the other people. You doing this for you, for Lip because you have some sort of fucking savior complex. You think you are meant to be the savior of the people or die a martyr. You expect fame and praise but all you’ll receive is burial in an umarked, mass grave.

“Don’t prattle on about duty and responsibility when the only responsibility you have if for yourself. And maybe Karen,” Ian finished.

“Fuck you!” Lip yelled. “Organizing this rally is the only way _to_ fight against The Order! It’s _for_ the people that I’m even thinking about this.”

“If it was for the people, you’d listen to me when I say you can’t accomplish anything by doing this,” Ian said.

“You asked for my help,” Ian continued as he walked to the door. “You asked me to tell you what they’re response would be and I told you. You can’t fucking win and you’re delusional if you think otherwise.”

“You’re wrong,” Lip argued as Ian opened the door.

“No, I’m not. But if you want someone to blindly agree with you next time, don’t ask me for advice,” Ian retorted and slammed the door behind him.

*

It took Lip exactly 16 days to put his plan for a riot into place. He did it all without Ian’s help. He hadn’t tried to do it behind Ian’s back—he’s too arrogant for that. He’d purposely work on when Ian was right there in front of him in hopes of guilting him into helping.

All it did was force Ian to keep a running tally of all the people that Lip just helped force onto the Order’s radar. Even if they had had no intention of going to the rally, to joining with Lip and the others, they were targets now. They were targets simply because someone who was about to become a massive threat to the Order called them and talked to them.

Lip could have just been asking about their flower garden and it wouldn’t matter. But once they discover that Lip had called them to ask them to join his side and take a stand, it would be years before the Order stops actively patrolling them.

Ian stood off to the side, in the shadows as he watched his brother and family attempt their rally. His speech had successfully gotten Kev, Veronica, and Carl out of the fight, but the others were there.

_They might as well be wearing a giant bulls-eye,_ Ian thought bitterly. They were walking, breathing targets after all.

Ian wasn’t even that angry that they didn’t listen to him. He was basically a stranger parading around their house wearing their brother’s face. They didn’t know him; they didn’t know what had happened to him all those years he was away.

He doubted he’d even listen to himself if his and Lip’s positions were reversed.

Mickey came up beside him, his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, if my brother’s going to be an idiot, someone has to look out for him,” Ian said.

“Maybe nothing will happen,” Mickey suggested.

“Maybe something will,” Ian replied. They both knew which words held the bigger threat.

They stood together and silently watched the people begin to gather. There was a small crowd—bigger than Ian had been preparing for.

However, by the look on Lip’s face it wasn’t anywhere near the number he’d been expecting.

Lip was a fool if he thought the people were going to rise up against the Order. There wasn’t a reason for it. Not when the mere thought or sentence could get you erased.

It wasn’t worth it. Ian knew that; he’d been there and lived through it.

“Think Lip figured there’d be more people,” Mickey said quietly.

“There’s still too many, “ Ian said.

“You need to chill a little, man,” Mickey said.

“If you knew what they did to the people they erase,” Ian said but then bit his lip. “You wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss me.”

Mickey looked at him and for the first time it felt like he really saw Ian, saw everything he’d been trying to say for months now. But then it was gone and Mickey was just looking at him with sadness.

“But if we never stand up? What then?” Mickey asked.

“Then you get to live,” Ian told him.

“Yeah, a life that has you following their rules and restrictions,” Mickey said. “No thanks.”

“Better a life filled with rules than no life at all,” Ian said.

“Depends on who makes the rules,” Mickey added. Ian wondered if they both thought of Terry in that moment.

Ian remained quiet as he watched his brother passing out his pamphlets and couldn’t help but sigh. His brother was too stubborn for his own good.

A blinding light flooded the park and a horrible, screeching siren filled the air. Ian couldn’t see anything but the dark spots floating above his eyes when the white light blinked off. He couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears.

“Mickey?!” Ian shouted, or at least he thought he shouted, but he couldn’t be sure.

He started walking toward the direction he thought Lip was still in. His brother had been up on the podium—surely the actual target they were after. If only Ian could get to him and pull him out of the park.

Ian kept his eyes tightly closed as he walked and focused his hearing. He tuned out the siren as best he could and listened for the buzzing of the light. If he could hear the light, he’d be able to get his sight back. At least back enough to make sure everyone had been able to get out of the park. Including his brother, though he sort of wanted to strangle him himself when this was all over because this wouldn’t have happened if he’d just _listened_ to Ian.

He opened his eyes when the buzz faded away and quickly made his way to the podium. He could see Lip wandering in near circles on the grass below. There were no other people around him.

The lights came on and Ian slammed his eyes shut. He walked more quickly towards Lip, straining for the sounds of the other people or patrollers.

The buzzing stopped and Ian opened his eyes frantically searching for Lip in the haze that clouded his vision.

Lip wasn’t there.

Ian whirled around looking for him, for somebody, _anybody_ before the lights came back on. But he saw no one. The park was completely deserted except for him.

It was like no one had ever been here in the first place.

But the lights came back on one more time and a bag was yanked over his head. His arms wrenched behind his back and Ian went still. It was better not to fight.

The people handling him said nothing as they cuffed his arms behind his back and chained his legs. Ian made no sounds, not even a whimper or a sigh from pain as they bound him.

It was silent and dark as he felt them shuffling him towards a vehicle. Even while blindfolded he knew where he was going.

It was the very place he’d only recently escaped from.

He was going to kill Lip when he saw him again. _If_ he ever saw him again. Because sometimes it’s better to just follow the orders and survive. Sometimes it’s better to just hide in ignorance than try to force the blinders away.  

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been dissected so many times I honestly can't even remember the original order. The scene where Mickey confronts Ian outside the Gallaghers at the beginning of the fic was sort of what sparked this whole idea. And as I started going, the universe kept expanding and I needed to figure out how to condense to make a fic that makes sense and tells a good story AND is actually manageable to write! 
> 
> I have sort of fallen in love with this universe though, and there's so much left to explore and I don't think I want to leave it at that, so I'll probably be writing more for it eventually. I'm all for angst and realistic endings, but I feel like Ian's been through enough and deserves something more! (Not entirely sure if/when a sequel/prequel will be written, but you can come talk to me on [tumblr](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/) if you want!)


End file.
